Date: September 23, 2012
Title: Off on the Adventure
Text: Luke 10:25-37
Hymns:
261
God of Compassion, in Mercy Befriend Us
403
What a Friend We Have in Jesus
358
Help Us Accept Each Other
This last Friday, September 21st, was the 75th anniversary of the publishing of J.R.R. Tolkien’s
children’s fantasy novel The Hobbit. Tolkien was to go on to write the classic of fantasy
literature, The Lord of the Rings, but it all began with a charming story about the hobbit, Bilbo
Baggins. Now, if you are not into fantasy and you have not seen any of the movies, and you
may not even know what a hobbit is. Hobbits are a race of short stocky people that are quick
and clever, peace loving, easy going, and fond of good food and drink. In the opening pages of
The Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins is outside his front door and Gandalf the wizard stops by. Listen to
how their conversation begins:
“Good Morning!” said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was
very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows and the brim of
his shady hat.
“What do you mean?” he said. “Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a
good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a
morning to be good on?”
“All of them at once,” said Bilbo. “And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of
doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine!
There’s no hurry, we have all the day before us!” Then Bilbo sat down on a seat by his
door, crossed his legs, and blew out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the
air without breaking and floated away over The Hill.
“Very pretty!” said Gandalf. “But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am
looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it’s very difficult to
find anyone.”
“I should think so—in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for
adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can’t think
what anybody sees in them,” said our Mr. Baggins, and stuck one thumb behind his
braces, and blew out another even bigger smoke-ring.
Adventures are nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things that make you late for dinner, at least
according to Mr. Bilbo Baggins. Yet, here we are in the middle of a series of sermons based on
the book Small Things with Great Love, by Margot Starbuck. And the subtitle of the book is
Adventures in Loving Your Neighbor. As you read through this book, you realize that Margot
would probably agree with Bilbo. Loving our neighbors, reaching out to others, externally
serving, as we say around here, can be disturbing and uncomfortable. She admits it all can be
very messy at times. It can even make you late for dinner. That is why she says it is an
adventure.
Our scripture lesson for this morning is about an adventure. It is a familiar story that you have
probably heard before. It begins with a question and answer time after Jesus had been the key
note speaker at a Presbytery meeting. And one of the pastors stood up and said, “Uh,
Professor, what is the appropriate ethical method of functioning in order to achieve a
satisfactory post-eschatological framework of existence?” Jesus responded, “Well, you went to
Princeton Seminary. What does the Bible say?” The pastor replied. “You shall love the Lord
your God, with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your
mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus said, “Bingo! You got it! You just answered your
own question. You do that and you will have it all covered.”
Then we have an important element to this whole story. It says: “But wanting to justify himself,
he asked Jesus…” Now, I don’t know about you, but I am always trying to justify myself. I know
very well what needs to be done, but I can justify all sorts of reasons not to do it. I am not a bad
guy, really I am not. I want to do the right and decent and helpful thing. It is just that if I do that,
well, I might look foolish. If I do that, I might be all alone. If I do that, I might be asked to do a
whole lot more. If I do that, I might find myself in a nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable situation
that will make me late for dinner. I am always looking out for myself, justifying what is really in
my own best interest.
“But wanting to justify himself, he asked Jesus, ‘And who is my neighbor?’” This question
comes from someone who, first of all, sees all this as an intellectual sparring match, and
second, who is primarily looking out for himself. Jesus answers his question with the story we
all know. A man was going from Jerusalem down to Jericho. Now, you may have heard this
before, but Jerusalem is situated up on Mt. Zion, approximately 2400 feet above sea level.
Jericho is just some 17 miles away, but it is some 850 feet below sea level. In roughly the
distance between here and Anamosa the elevation drops 3300 feet. The terrain is rough and
desolate with cliffs and canyons and steep gulleys. A winding road, with many switchbacks and
blind curves had been carved up through the rocky hills. There were many places where
thieves could hide and suddenly ambush an unsuspecting traveler, and that is what happened.
They beat this man and took everything he had, even the shirt off his back.
It just so happened that the first person to come along the road and encounter the poor victim
was a priest, a pastor, we would say today. He probably lived in Jericho, but traveled up to the
temple in Jerusalem on occasion to lead in worship. Jesus says that he was going “down” the
road, which seems to imply that he had already been to Jerusalem and was on his way back
home. Dinner was waiting for him and he didn’t want to be late. So he justified himself, ignoring
the man lying beside the road and went on his way.
Then along came a Levite, an elder, we would say today. He, too, ignored the wounded man
and hurried along. Finally, along came a Samaritan, one of the half breed outcasts. Jesus does
not tell us who he was or what he was doing, but one thing was certain. Samaritans did not
worship at the temple in Jerusalem. So it was not likely that he was going to or coming from
any sort of religious gathering. No, he was probably a merchant or had some other business to
transact in the capital city.
And this idea is a critical thread running throughout Margot Starbuck’s book. She points out that
the Samaritan was just going about his business. He was on his way… somewhere… to do
something he wanted or needed to do. He did not get up in the morning and say to himself,
“Where can I find some poor beat up sucker to help today?” He was not walking along that road
intent on providing aid to mugging victims. He came across this wounded man going about his
regular routine. Margot says this sort of thing happens to all of us. We don’t need to go out
looking for someone to help. We encounter those in need every day.
Jesus says the Samaritan noticed the man lying alongside the road and was moved with pity for
him. Well, you know the rest of the story. The Samaritan picks the man up, cleans up his
wounds, puts him on his donkey, and takes him to an inn. He pays for the lodging, and
promises to make up any additional expenses on his way back through. And we have heard
this story so many times that it doesn’t sink in. It seems remote and unconnected with our lives.
Yes, if we saw someone who was injured and bleeding, we would pull out our cell phones and
call 911. We are pretty sure we would not just ignore someone who had been the victim of a
crime.
But here is something else I noticed this time I read the story. The scholar who was trying to
justify himself asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” Jesus told the story and then asked him,
“Which of the three… was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of the robbers?” The
scholar essentially asked, “Of the many people around me, who falls in the category of
neighbor?” Jesus essentially responded, “What does it take to be a neighbor?” You see, it is
not a matter of slapping a label on someone. It is a matter of being, of acting, of responding in a
certain way.
Let me tell you a story of someone, a member of this congregation, who acted as a neighbor
and found herself in the middle of an adventure. It happened on a rainy, chilly afternoon, late
last October. Carol Ebaugh was on her way home from a class she had attended to keep up on
her real estate license. She stopped to get gas at the Casey’s at the corner of Northland Ave
and Collins Rd. That is the one next door to the Noodles restaurant. As she pumped her gas,
she noticed a young woman, about 20 years old, pushing a stroller with a baby, and holding the
hand of a little girl, maybe three years old. They were trying to cross Collins Rd. They caught
Carol’s attention because although it was a rather cold afternoon, the little girl was wearing flipflops.
Carol went up and asked if she could help her. The young mother said no, she was fine. She
was just heading over to Hy-Vee to buy a few groceries. Carol went back to her car and then
drove over to Hy-Vee to wait for her. She said, let me just help you with the kids while you are
shopping, and so as they walked around together the talked, and Carol found out more about
her. Her name was Cassandra and she lived in the Briarwood apartments there on Northland
Ave. Her grandmother had raised her, but she had been on her own since she was 15 years
old when her grandmother died. Cassandra was doing her best to make things work for her two
children. She had them in day care center across the street from the apartments, while she
worked at the McDonalds up on Blair’s Ferry Rd. She did not have a car so she walked or took
the bus wherever she needed to go.
By the time she was done shopping Cassandra had decided that she could trust Carol to drive
her home. Well, Carol dropped them off, but she could not get that image of Cassandra walking
with those two small children wherever they had to go. Carol knew that opportunities would be
limited for her without safe transportation. So Carol decided she was going to get Cassandra a
car.
She called me, and I sympathized, but try as I might I just could not find a line item in our budget
that would cover the cost of a car. Carol called the Salvation Army and other charitable
organization. There was not much help there. She went to Farmer’s State Bank, thinking that
maybe they would be willing to donate a car that they had repossessed, but she was told that
legally they could not do that. Finally, she was driving by Pat McGrath Chevyland, and on an
impulse she decided she would go in and ask them to give her a car. Why not? She thought. If
I don’t ask the answer is no.
I am not sure if that salesman had ever had someone come in and ask him to give away a car,
but to his credit he listened to what Carol had to say. Of course, he could not authorize
anything like that, so he went and got his manager. The manager thought about it, took Carol’s
name and number, and said he would get back to her. Carol left, hopeful, but wondering how
long it would take and what it might cost. The manager called her the next day, and said that if
she could show proof of insurance and Cassandra’s valid driver’s license, he had a car for her.
It was old and had a few dents in it, but mechanically it was sound. The dealership would cover
the tax and licensing. Carol had found a car for Cassandra.
Now, there is a lot that could be said about this story. I want to make two points. First, Carol
knew all along that Cassandra had a lot of other problems, problems that Carol could not deal
with. That did not stop her from doing what she could. Sometimes when we try to justify
ourselves, we think “This is not going to fix everything so why should I even try?” But notice, the
Samaritan did not try to fix everything in the wounded man’s life. He did not try to take him to
his own home, or get him to his destination. He did not give the man the money that had been
stolen from him. He did not go chasing after the robbers to stop them from attacking someone
else. He could not do all those things, but he did what he could. He stopped the man’s
bleeding and took him to a safe place. Carol did what she could, although it was a lot more than
most of us would have even attempted.
The second point comes from the last sermon the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. preached
before he was assassinated. In this sermon he talked about the story of the Good Samaritan.
He said that he understood the reluctance on the part of the priest and the Levite to stop and
help this man. He said they were wondering “What will happen to me if I stop and help?” But,
he said, the Good Samaritan was asking himself a different question. The question he asked
was, “What will happen to this man if I do not stop and help?”
When I asked Carol why she went to all the effort to help this woman she replied, “All I could
think of was those two little kids trying to cross Collins Rd. with their mama, in heavy traffic in
the dead of winter. If anything would have happened to them I would not have been able to
sleep at night.” Carol did not think much about what might have happened to her if she tried to
help. She was too worried about what would happen to those children if she did not.
My dear friends, I know it is a sad and sinful world out there. I know, and more important, God
knows you cannot do everything. But do not let the fact you cannot do everything keep from
doing what you can, even if it is a very small thing; just do it with great love. And I know, and
God knows, that there are dangers out there. Yes, of course, you need to be safe and keep
those you love safe. But when you come upon an opportunity to help someone, is it really a
matter of being in danger? Or is it more a matter of something that is nasty, disturbing and
uncomfortable and might make you late for dinner? Because if that is all that it is, then ask
yourself, “What is going to happen to this person if I don’t stop and help?” May God help us all
to have the courage to set off on some wonderful, wonderful adventures. In the name of the
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen.